You Didn’t Write That!

After reflecting the other day on an especially magnificent post that I had just completed, just as my pride was about to develop into smug self-satisfaction, Obama’s voice came ringing into my head with that mortifying god echo of his:

“You didn’t write that!”

At first I was indignant, but then duly chastized. The more I reflected upon it, the more I realized that I was not responsible for one iota of the entire eloquent, masterfully crafted piece.

The Obama angel on my left shoulder pleaded with the individualist, pro-capitalist devil on my right:

“If you were successful, somebody along the line gave you some help.  There was a great teacher somewhere in your life. Somebody helped to create this unbelievable American system that we have that allowed you to thrive.  Somebody invested in roads and bridges. If you’ve got a business. you didn’t build that. Somebody else made that happen. The Internet didn’t get invented on its own. Government research created the Internet so that all the companies could make money off the Internet.”

Indeed, I thought soberly, owning up to the pittance of humility and insignificance apropos for a measly government ward like myself, I wasn’t responsible for a single positive thing in my life.

• Had I invented the Internet? No, Al Gore did that.
• Did I manufacture the keyboard, the monitor, the mouse? The government allowed HP to do that.
• What of the software, the operating system? That fellow creature of omnipotent government Bill Gates had developed that.

Then again, what had I accomplished on my own in my life?

• My parents raised me since I was helpless in the womb, and nourished me, clothed me, and housed me. And munificently, the Department of Health & Human Services deemed they were fit enough to keep me.
• The “public” educated me to a moderate level throughout high school, and kept open the libraries in which I foolishly believed I was remedying my ignorance.
• Farmers grew and raised the food on which I so greedily noshed, and . . .

Why stop with these mere material manifestations of my environ?

• Had I invented the English language that was channeled through my neurons, automaton-like, within the confines of my prefrontal cortex and thence to my motor neurons and down to my furiously typing fingers?
• What of time and space itself? Was I responsible for these aspects of existence?
• Did I found America?

No, the government magnanimously allowed all these things to exist for me. “What hasn’t the Obama regime done for me?” is a better question to muse upon than merely wondering about what I had accomplished in the life that I thought I was leading.

If the government chose, it could end everything for me. It could close the roads on which I traveled past shuttered businesses. It could shut down the DMV, which makes automobile travel permissible. It could remove the TSA, meaning all aircraft would be beset by bomb-wielding terrorists.

It could stop healthcare, meaning we could all die of plague and disease, and need the government to save us. How grateful would we be to Obama for that?

Looking back upon my post, I see that it doesn’t quite meet my standards. In fact, it might be perceived as outrageous or even inflammatory. Why, some might even say that I was being flippant with a man who has taken himself out of context.

But don’t blame me. I didn’t write that.